Sacrifice, Love or Something Like It
by Dubheasa
Summary: Rose Templar was just an ordinary girl until that night, before life had thrown war, danger, fear and an impossible love at her feet.
1. Discovery

CHAPTER ONE - DISCOVERY

I ran, my feet pounding along the road. My heart hammered inside my chest out of fear, anger, exhaustion, but I would not stop running. The pain lacing through my muscles was nothing to the bruise blossoming on my cheek. There would be a black eye there soon, after the force that was behind my stepfather's hand. Living alone with him after my mother's death had been hard enough, and the punishments from small misdemeanours were expected, but this time I had really stuffed up. He worked late, so it was my responsibility to make dinner, but I had been distracted. From the large window in the kitchen, I had watched as a large meteorite streaked across the sky, seemingly dropped from a passing airforce plane. The meteorite had landed somewhere in the massive state forest behind our house, and I had lost track of time watching plumes of a bluish smoke rise from the tops of the pine. Soon enough I realised the chicken burning in the oven, and it exploded just as my stepfather walked in.

There had been no time then, just enough to dodge a few blows, to receive some, and then bolt for the door. No more. I couldn't take it. When things like this happened, I ran up the road towards the forest, touch a sign and run back to the house, hoping that I could slip in unnoticed. This time was different. When I reached the sign, I touched it and paused. His words were echoing in my head; "You stupid bitch! If you ever set foot in this house again…", I looked back down the road at the distant light that was my house, and then back at the forest. I kept running forwards and left the rough vehicle track. The forest thickened quickly, shielding much of the full moon's light. I tripped over roots and landed hard, scratching my palms and my face, but each time I stood up again, cursing myself for the tears that were running down my face. I felt pressure behind my eyes, the quivering of my lip.

"Stop it," I snapped at myself, stopping to breathe. "Enough." I closed my eyes, rolling my head back. When I opened, the stars had disappeared, but it was not this that caught my attention. There was yellowed light staining the trunks of the trees around me. Just as I took a step in the direction the light was coming from, a great quake seemed to run under my feet, causing the pine needles blanketing the earth to jump. My breath vanished inside of me as I peered through the trees. The light had disappeared. I walked forward, ensuring my feet stepped without a sound. There came a sudden sound of twisted metal, and then a cracking. Perhaps it was the meteorite I saw, I wondered to myself, burning up the pine needles around it. With this seeming like a completely reasonable explanation, I calmed myself, at least that was until heard a noise, like the rushing of wind, yet at the same time, a human gasp, yet not quite human.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I called tentatively. There was no response. "Are you hurt? I have my cell phone on me, I can call for help."

"No."

I nearly fainted from fright. I hadn't expected a reply, and definitely not one that was so deep, so loud, and so helpless.

"Where…where are you?" I called. I opened up my phone and used its light to look around me. There was no one around.

"Here." It was then that I became aware that the voice came from above. Fear entrenched in me now, I looked up and screamed. "Shh! Quiet! I will not harm you."

I gaped at the monstrously tall figure of metal and bolts, its head only denoted in the dark by two blue-glowing eyes. But no, they couldn't be eyes, it was a _thing_, a machine, a torn up truck arranged to look hominoid. Then came the gasp, and whatever was in front of me seemed to tense as though it was enduring great pain.

"What are you?" I stammered, taking a step back.

"I am Swiftcut," the thing replied, it's voice growing quiet. I noticed the light of its eyes dimming. "I am an Autobot, and I am dying."

"What's an Autobot? What is this, some sort of experiment? Are you something made by the government?" I looked around, half expecting to see people behind the nearby trees, holding an enormous remote control for the machine in front of me. If I hadn't been sure that it wasn't real, I could have sworn I heard it chuckle softly.

The machine that called itself Swiftcut bent towards me, and through the light of my phone I saw its features come into view. Completely metal, the features of its face were elegantly made to look human; the bow of the lips, eyelids, even eyebrows that showed its pain. "I am no experiment, I am definitely real. Listen, I have been injured. I was in a battle, and was dropped here from a great height by my enemy, a Decepticon."  
"You," I said, "you were that meteorite that I saw fall. You must have fell hundreds of feet!"

The mechanisms on his face drew a smile. "Yes, you got that right. I'm in a bit of pain."

"You feel pain? But you're a machine. I didn't think…"

"What you thought before this very moment is nothing," Swiftcut said seriously. "You are in serious danger. You must listen to me…" And that was when he told me. It was terrible, a story of a distant world, a war between others like himself, the Autobots, and the Decepticons – similar robots that had very different and violent ambitions. Earth, without knowing it, had been embroiled in their war with the Deceptions wanting to destroy it, and the Autobots attempting to save us.

"Why?" I asked, still trying to grasp what I was hearing.

"There is too much to live for here," Swiftcut said. "I've seen much of what you humans have, your art, music, the way you can love each other. We had that once, but it was destroyed. We feel we can do no more than try to preserve what you have."

I put my head in my hands. "I'm talking to a robot," I muttered to myself, "about aliens and invasions…and art. I'm insane, I'm going insane."

"Trust me, this is no illusion," came his voice. I assumed it was a 'he'. His voice was too deep for a female. Then again, what did I know about alien genders? I rubbed my eyes and flinched when my fingers touched the place where my stepfather's fist had made contact with my face.

"Are you hurt, too?" Swiftcut asked.

"No, no, just wishing that my stepfather would die already," I said casually, forgetting who…or _what_…I was talking to. I looked up quickly to see what had to be an expression of concern on his face. "No, I don't mean literally die, it's a figure of speech…oh, don't worry about it. What's more important is that you get some help. If what you say is true, the more of you guys there are around, the better. What can I do?"

"Head west, keep walking until you find a road. Take it, and it will lead you to an abandoned car yard. There will be vehicles there, but no people. Say aloud that you have spoken to me, and that I need help. You will find what I need there. I cannot move unless I receive some repairs," he instructed.

"Okay," I said, "are you sure there'll be someone there?"

He gave a nod.

"Alright. Hang in there, mate, I'll be as quick as I can." I went to start running, but he spoke.

"Wait…" I turned to face his great form. "Thank-you. I will owe you much after this. You prove that this planet is worth fighting for. Tell me, what is your name?"

"Rose Templar," I replied.

"That is a nice name."

I stared incredulously at him. A robot was telling me that I had a nice name. It was utterly ridiculous. He must have sensed my confusion, for he have a wink of one of his eyes, but then groaned, arching back as his eyes dimmed and nearly extinguished. I began to run in the direction he had shown me, knowing that with each step I was heading into something so large, so out of control that I could hardly comprehend it.


	2. Grip

Bah...had to delete the story coz yet again my computer illiteracy has let me down, so sorry I lost all your reviews!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the setting and Rose Templar. The rest are copyright of Hasbro.

CHAPTER TWO – GRIP

The car yard was indeed deserted as Swiftcut had said, but it was still unnerving. The moonlight reflected off windscreens of several abandoned cars that were scattered about the grounds. The menacing grate of a truck loomed in the shadows of a shed, beside it what looked like a brand-new, enormous motorbike. Living in the area for many years, I had never seen or heard of the car yard before, incredible considering I lived only a few miles from it, but I could see why no one ventured around here, it was purely eerie. I stood in the middle of the yard, looking for a light of maybe an office where I would find help, but then it struck me.

"You idiot," I said to myself. Swiftcut was not looking for help from humans at the caryard, but others like him. I swallowed hard, feeling fear growing in my stomach.

"Hello?" I called out, angry at the way my voice pitifully cracked. "Um…my name is Rose and…I met your friend, Swiftcut. He's hurt and needs your help."

There was silence.

"Hello?! Come on, he's hurt! He sent me here himself. He needs help, dammit!"

There was another silence, but then a creaking, the moving of bolts and joints, pivots and levers. I staggered back as the cars began to retract on themselves, before rising up where, with a flash and spin of a thousand parts, formed shoulders, necks, hands and fingers. Many sets of eyes awoke in the darkness, some blue, others green. There was a great roar as the truck emerged from its shed and began to rise, taller than the others. In the moonlight its paint became visible, the blue and red in flame-like arrangements. I stood now in the middle of a great circle of robots where before there were only vehicles. My hands trembled uncontrolled.

"Swiftcut?" the great truck-robot said in a gravel-like voice. His eyes flashed. "He is far from here, days away."

"No, he's in the forest. He was dropped here by…by Decept…Decepti…"

"Decepticons," growled the robot to my right who was once an old Porsche. "They have found us then."

"This is a message," the truck-robot growled, "we are no longer safe here." He took one step, one step that was perhaps twenty of my one steps in length. He stood over me now and bent down. I felt my knees shaking and sinking below me. "No need to be frightened," he continued, "my name is Optimus Prime, I'm of no danger to you. But tell me, how did you come across Swiftcut, and where is he? Be quick, he may not have much time."

I explained as fast as I could, the meteorite, how I was walking through the forest, and how Swiftcut could hardly move. "I'll take you to him," I said, feeling a sense of urgency somewhere among my sea of fear and disbelief. I ran as fast as I could back down the road, four autobots, including Optimus Prime, easily keeping pace with me. Trees bent and snapped as they barged through behind me. As we approached Swiftcut's location I heard a deafening yell.

"It's a trap!"

At that very moment the forest around us seemed to explode with light. Flames leapt up like billowing clouds, racing up the tree trunks with a searing heat. The autobots around me clicked and locked as guns emerged from practically nowhere, looking like huge barrels of intense heat. From the darkness came figures like the autobots, but I knew exactly what they were, I could feel it. The Decepticons opened fire on us; there were perhaps five of them. I dived into shrubs nearby, cowering and screaming at the same time, but my voice was drowned out by the 'SSKA-BOOM' of missiles leaving their weapons and hitting their targets.

"Get Swiftcut!" I heard Optimus bellow, and watched as one of the autobots ran to his side, turning to Swiftcut's back with tools in his hands. Sparks showered out from behind him as he suddenly rose to his feet, legs firmly apart and guns revving from his arms. A Decepticon rounded towards him, the enormous weapon in his hand humming louder and louder. The Decepticon aimed squarely at Swiftcut's chest, but Swiftcut was, well, much swifter. A ball of what looked like molten lava erupted from Swiftcut's gun, searing forward and enveloping the enemy in an electrical fire. Swiftcut leapt over the disintergrating carcass of the Decepticon, looking wildly around him

"Where is she?" he yelled, pounding shots at the Decepticons

"Bushes, there!" came his response. I could not feel my legs, and did not even notice that I had made myself stand up. Swiftcut bolted towards me and in one fluid movement scooped me up in one hand while simultaneously firing across his body to the right. I saw one of the enemy crash to the ground, a spray of dirt fanning around him.

Wrapped in the Swiftcut's metallic fingers, I closed my eyes tightly as he bounded through the forest. It felt like we were running forever until we finally burst through onto an open dirt road. He brought his hand up and held me to his chest.

"Hold on," he warned, and I began to feel him change and shift. I thought for a moment that we were falling forward, but soon a floor seemed to form around me, even seats, and then, to my shock, a dashboard and steering wheel. I seemed to slip seamlessly into the driver's seat, but I was not the one driving the car that now enclosed me.

"What the..?" I cried, craning my neck to look behind. From the rear window I saw a convoy of three cars, a truck and a motorbike following close behind, and beyond them the rising smoke of the forest. Three aeroplanes rose quickly above the treeline and disappeared into the night sky. The road wound around towards the Sampson Plains, huge, open stretches of land punctuated only by sudden and sheer mountains. The car turned off the road and drove over the bumpy ground towards the shadow of one of the mountains, followed closely by the convoy. Pulling a stop, the car door opened and I shakily stepped out. Within an instant, the car began changing, red metal spinning and shifting back into Swiftcut's original shape.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, glancing quickly at his companions who were also reverting to their original form. I nodded. He walked over to Optimus. "I had no idea until you arrived. They remained hidden until the last minute. I would not have put any of you in that danger, otherwise."

"It is forgiven," Optimus replied, however harshly. "You are lucky your friend here was present to give you some assistance." He gave a nod in my direction, and I became aware that all autobots were looking at me. "I can imagine we are somewhat of a shock for you."

My stunned silence seemed to be a sufficient enough response.

Optimus began talking to the three other autobots sternly, but in undertones I could not decipher. I was left staring at Swiftcut.

"Thanks for what happened back there," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. It was slick with sweat. "I really thought I was going to die."

"It's fine, really," he replied, but he was distracted. He glanced over at his fellow autobots who seemed to be deep in serious discussion.

"It's alright, you can go over if you want. I'm okay here. I just need to…you know, get a grip on what I've seen."

Swiftcut looked awkward. "It's…no, I'll stay here, I'm not really…" He looked away. I raised my brow in question. "It's hard to explain. I'll try and put it into words you'll understand: _I'm in deep shit."_

I didn't know whether to laugh or not, hearing a machine talk to colloquially, but I kept a straight face. "But you told the tall one, Optimus. You said you didn't know that it was trap."

"I should have. It's instinct. We know the Decepticons too well to make a mistake like that, although, obviously I'm stupid enough to. This is not the first time, however. There was another time, not on Earth, where my mistake led to us losing one of our own. I guess it is my punishment now not to be trusted. I stay on the peripheral, now. Reconnaissance, keeping watch, that sort of thing."

I looked across to the group and at the same time Optimus looked over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed. I quickly fixed my gaze on the ground. "He's not the most easy-going of guys…or robots…is he?" I said quietly. Swiftcut seemed to smile. "Swiftcut, you did a brave thing beforehand, though. You saved my life."

"Consider it a repayment of debt, for you saved mine. Please, call me Swift."

As if in derision, Optimus suddenly called out his name, "Swiftcut!" Swift stood up immediately. "Your little adventure before may have proved more complex than originally expected. Jazz?" A silver-plated, glimmering autobot stepped forward. "Tell them what you found."

Jazz produced a small, metallic object that looked like a large mobile phone. "Barricade dropped something when I hit him," Jazz said, with a hint of an African-American accent, "and didn't seem to notice." He threw the contraption to Swift, but as soon as he caught it Optimus lanced forward and grabbed it from him.

"It's a virtual map," Optimus said gruffly, turning his back on Swift and walking back to the group. "with unlabelled targets placed upon several key buildings in this area; the House of Records, the observatory and the airport."

"Hey, I work…" I began, but was instantly interjected by Optimus.

"Deliberate or not as it was for Barricade to drop this, we cannot ignore it. We predicted that they were interested in this area."

"But why?" Swift asked.

Jazz smirked as if he had just asked to most base question. "The military base, junior! Why else? The government is trialling their newest equipment out here; spacecraft and land craft, and the Decepticons see it as a threat…or an advantage."

Optimus began pacing around slowly. "While I would like to give you the full brief of our concerns, we still have a problem. The girl."

There was a murmur of agreement from the others.

"What, me?" I said, feeling fear bubbling inside me again. Optimus nodded. "How am I a problem?"

Optimus leant towards me. "The fact that you are standing in the presence of us creates a serious secrecy problem. You could easily go back to your family and tell them everything that has happened to you, thus revealing us."

"Oho," I laughed, however nervously, "no chance of that. It's hard to spill a secret to a family that doesn't exist."

Optimus held a hand to his face with a sigh. "Are all you humans like this? Each time we have contact with one of you, there seems to be some dramatic problem."

"Gets a bit tiring," Jazz added, and his companions laughed in agreement.

I frowned. "Look, it happens, alright? Things stuff up, people stuff up. You just deal with it. I wouldn't expect you to understand, considering you're just a pile of…of…scrap metal!"

There was a silence and I shut my eyes tightly. Did I just insult a 15-foot high robot with guns built into his arms? Yes, Rose, you did. Well done…idiot. When I opened my eyes I saw Swift, who was attempting to stifle a smile.

Optimus' eyes flashed, but he kept his voice steady. "Contrary to what you humans think, we can experience emotions, and insulted is not one I will tolerate." He took a great step towards me and began to extend his hand. There was a flash of dull grey steel and suddenly Swift was in front of me.

"Wait," he said. Optimus halted. "Let me deal with this. I'll make sure she won't say anything. I'll take her home…"

"No!" I cried suddenly, thinking of the ogre at the house who would still be violently ranting about burnt chicken.

Swift looked around for a solution. "Er, well, then perhaps she can stay here…"

"No!" Optimus and the autobots replied. They began arguing loudly with Swift, advancing towards him so that he was forced to keep stepping back.

"Hang on," I said, but my voice was drowned out. "Listen to me! I have an idea…" Still no response. "Will you all SHUTUP?" I cried as loud as I could. In the silence I could hear the echo of my voice in the distance. I had all eyes…or optics…fixed on me. "If you could have bothered to give me a second beforehand, I could have told you something. I work at the House of Records. I could help."

Optimus straightened up, his face intent. "Do you now? That makes things more interesting."

"Well, I don't work _with _the House of Records, I kinda help them…you know, cleaning up on Saturday nights after the lawyers have trashed the place and put everything in the wrong order. But I could still help."

Jazz sighed. "Great, a cleaning girl will solve all our problems. You know, the only use you could have was if you brought your gear to clean the mud off my feet…" he began to laugh but Optimus held out a silencing hand. His eyes narrowed again, but this time in thought.

"Perhaps you could be of some use, human."

"This is dangerous," Swift said, kneeling down do that he could talk directly to me. "Rose, you don't know what you're up against here. If they discover that we're using you to infiltrate their plans, you could face a deadly threat."

I looked back into his face, into eyes that could almost be human, but glinted with an unearthly light. Then I looked straight at Optimus.

"Tell me what I can do."


	3. David

CHAPTER THREE – DAVID

"Things were bad enough as they were, now this."

Swift paced up and down restlessly, his great strides forming tiny clouds of dust with each footfall. "You shouldn't have been involved with anything that happened in the forest, and now Optimus has gone and roped you into danger," he continued.

Swift had driven me back to the caryard as soon as Optimus had told me of his plan. It had sounded exciting, something that a boy would daydream about during class, but I knew that in reality what I had volunteered to help with was well above my head. I feigned confidence. "I'll be in the House of Records, Swift. I know that place like the back of my hand, and it's well guarded."

"Guarded?" he laughed. "By what, humans? That's hardly going to…"

"Alright! I get your point, but I'm going to try anyway, okay? If this war is going to affect us just as much as you, I'd like to think that at least I did something," I retorted.

He paused. "Sorry. I just…get over cautious about these things now. You're sure you will remember everything?"

I pulled my sleeve up on my arm to reveal my scrawled handwriting. As Optimus had told me what to do, I had grabbed a pen from my pocket and, with no paper around me, had etched it onto my skin.

I left moments later with a wave, and turned away with the sound of Swift changing back into a car at my back. I had two days to get as much information as I could. I'd have to be inconspicuous, not hard since I was hardly noticed in the first place, but Optimus had told me clearly what I had to do.

"Utterly insane," I muttered as I trailed down the road that eventually met up with the bottom of my street. My head was still swimming, and the desperate voice of reasoning in the back of my mind screamed for me to forget everything I had just experienced, but I couldn't.

"You are doing your kind a great service," Optimus had said to me, and inside a feeling of worth had bloomed. I liked that feeling, and wanted to keep it.

* * *

The House of Records looked like a building pulled out of Ancient Greece. Great textured pillars supported the heavy overhang and marble and sandstone lined every floor. Inside was like a giant library, though it was not books that lined the shelves, but documents. They ranged from everything to government regulations, police and military reports to who won the junior football game on Saturday morning. In the afternoon, as the orange sun sent fingers of light through the upper windows, few people noticed me as I swept up the dust away from the desks, or cleaned the keyboards of the computers. One person, however, always managed to say hi, and always managed to make my knees turn to jelly. David. In junior high I had scribbled his name in secret corners of my text books, and tried to see if his last name sounded good with my first name. But our relationship never extended beyond a smile and a few words.

"Hey, you're here early," he remarked from behind the reception. As the son of the building's director, he usually did odd jobs around the place that meant we would bump into each other.

"Oh, you know, just thought I'd get a bit more done tonight. Some kid's spilt his choc milk on the floor in Room 4, it's gonna be a big job," I replied, somewhat airily. There was actually no spill in Room 4, but that was where the mainframe computers were, and the target of my first task.

"You alright? You look a bit tired," he asked, with a crease of concern on his forehead.

"Oh, er, just had a rough sleep last night," which of course related to the fact that I _didn't_ sleep at all, and it would be much of the same story again that night.

"Damn. Happens to the best of us, though, doesn't it? I guess, then, you're not up for another late night? Coz me and a few friends were going to head out to the Pig and Whistle after for a few drinks and I thought that maybe, if you wanted, you could come."

I felt my stomach drop. No, not now, not when I actually had something to do! The overwhelming urge to say "Hell yes!" came over me, but I replied flustered: "Sorry, can't tonight, I'm…seeing a friend. A girlfriend. Well, no, not a _girl_friend as in relationship, but a girl who is my friend and…"

He laughed. "It's alright, I get it, I get it. Maybe another time, eh?"

I nodded stupidly, mentally slapping my head in embarrassment as I walked away with the broom in my hand.

By 5:15 all the public had gone home, and the only souls left in the House of Records were the cleaners, David and his father, and a few security guards, but Room 4 was deserted. Hauling the mopping bucket inside, I gently closed the door behind me and hung the 'Cleaning in Progress' sign on the outside handle. I hoped it would grant me some privacy. I sat down at one of the computers and opened the Records internet, taking out a piece of paper in which I had recopied all of Optimus' instructions. There were about twenty steps involved before I would reach the site I needed to retrieve the information.

"So, what am I looking for?" I had asked Optimus the night before.

"A list of access grants to military information," he had replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "There could have been hundreds of people who had done that, we get all sorts looking up that kinda stuff."

Optimus' eyes flashed. "Not from the sites I'm thinking of. Your internet is more expanded than any human believes. It is like a digital organism – there are billions of pathways that can stretch all subjects all around the world…and beyond."

I went to smile but I realised he was serious. "Beyond? Hang on, are you suggesting that _aliens_ are using our internet? Like logging into Hotmail and Googling their names?"

"This is no time for humour, girl. Like I said, the internet is a much larger organism than you are aware of, and can be tapped into easily. The sites we are concerned about are directly linked to the American Government, and are not accessible to normal civilians. Unfortunately, this means that Decepticons can hack into the information easily – they are used to much more advanced technology and will find no difficulty in it."

Back in Room 4, I glanced down at the piece of paper with a smirk. The first instructions were: 'Go to Google." Advanced technology indeed. I followed each step gradually, and began to notice the stripping back of advertisements and accessability. Codes were needed soon, luckily Optimus had them, but I had no idea how. My eyes strained as I searched each page for the next link, and eventually the screen just became black with small, lime green font. Then I found what I was looking for.

A link appeared with 'Access Grants, 1/15/07 – 7/15/07'. I clicked, and the room around me was lit up by the green flashes of text as it spilt down the screen in a long list of names: Authorised Army Chief of Staff, T.S Fawlkner; Authorised Lieutenant General, F.S MacDougall; Authorised Major R.J Nicholson…the list went on.

I sighed, scanning down the pages. There was nothing there, just access dates and what they had access to. I kept scrolling, there must have been thousands of entries. My eyes began to blur until, amongst all the green font, red writing appeared: UNAUTHORISED T6D99EN4884738, Area 566: MapBlueprint/Arms;Scale1:16/45. I stared hard, wondering if this was what Optimus was after. Just a few lines down was another entry that looked the same, and a few more later on. I hit 'Print' and gathered a few copies, shoving them into my overalls pocket.

Optimus's instructions led on to more sites, each containing similar instances of unauthorised access. I printed off as much as I could, until a red light flashed on the printer. No paper.

"Damn!" I cursed quietly, looking around me to see where there would be more paper. The cupboard. I wrenched at the handles, but it had already been locked. I fished the paper out of my pockets and began to feed it in upside down.

"Rose?"

I yelped and looked across to the door. David stood framed in the doorway. Panic. "Er, hi, David. I'm just looking up something quickly…"

He came into the room and turned to look at the screen. I launched myself forward and hit the escape button, but it only made it worse – sending me back to the military's main site. I bashed the escape button repeatedly, giving an awkward laugh.

"What is this?" David asked, frowning. He was looking now at the papers in my hands. "What are you doing looking up military stuff? I didn't think we had access to that kind of thing here."

"Just a p…project I'm working on," I stammered, thrusting the paper back into my pocket.

"Can I have a look?" he asked with his arm extended.

"No! I, er, I mean that, well, it's a little embarrassing, me looking up tanks and stuff. You know, not exactly girly."

"That wasn't tanks on the screen, that was something else," he remarked suspiciously. "I better see it, Rose. You might have accidentally stumbled upon restricted information. Rose, come on, hand it over."

"David, don't," I pleaded quietly.

He surveyed me for a moment. "Something's wrong, isn't it? You've been acting weird since you got here; ducking into shadows whenever I walked past, glancing around you like you're being watched. What's happening?"

"Nothing, I…"

"Don't lie to me."

"David, trust me. Just let me go, don't ask anything, just pretend this never happened. I'm not doing anything dangerous, but I still can't tell you what it involves. Please, I'm begging you." I stared at him desperately, and it must have showed.

His tone changed. "If it were anyone else, I'd have called security by now. Promise me you're not plotting to blow something up, or kidnap someone." He gave a smile and I felt every single muscle in me relax with relief.

"I promise. I promise wholeheartedly."

He seemed satisfied. "Alright then. Finish up and I'll walk you out."


	4. Haul

CHAPTER FOUR – HAUL

"Come on, just one drink," David urged as we walked down the steps of the House of Records. It was nine o'clock. I said I'd meet Swift at the caryard at midnight. Three hours should be enough, right?

"Alright, but I have to leave at 11:30, okay?" I said.

"That's more like it!" David said with a smile. I was so grateful that he hadn't dogged me with questions about my actions in Room 4. Now, changed into casual clothes and with his dark curled hair whipped by the wind, he seemed completely care-free. I had hastily changed out of my not-so-stunning overalls and splashed some make-up on in the bathroom. I kept telling myself that I was still sticking to the plan, just compromising a little by going to the Pig and Whistle bar.

I couldn't remember a time where I had had so much fun. Aided by a drink or two, myself, David and his three friends from college had laughed, danced and simply chatted non-stop. Time slipped my mind as seemingly more important things took priority in my brain; the memory of David touching my waist as we danced, the awareness that he was looking at me with stolen glances, the way he had pulled me close on the dance floor. I grinned to myself and stumbled into the bathroom.

Inside I reached into my purse to find a comb and paused when I saw my phone light glowing. I picked it up and swallowed hard when I saw who the message was from: my stepfather, Mitchell. "**U betta get ur ass here a.s.a.p. Cops lookin 4 u." **I stared at that message for a long time before it made any sense. Why were the cops looking for me? I hadn't done anything illegal…

"Oh, shit," I whispered to myself. The files on the computer. Could they have…? I winced as I suddenly realised what an enormous, completely stupid fool I had been. The computers required money to be powered by the public, but to staff, we just had to log on. So I had used my user name; RoseTemplar. Recorded by the computer. I leant back against the wall heavily and buried my face in my hands.

"Whoever he is, darl, he ain't worth it," some drunken girl slurred at me as she slipped out of the bathroom. If only that was all it had been about.

Back out in the main room I found David. "Look, I got a call from my stepfather. I have to get home right now."

"What? Why?"

"I just have to," I responded miserably, grabbing my coat from the back of a chair.

"Oh, is this like another one of those 'don't ask' situations?" he asked, and I nodded. "I wish you didn't have to."

"You're telling me," I muttered before thanking him and his friends for a wonderful night. I raced out the door and hailed a cab for home. If I was nervous when I stepped into the car, it didn't help when I saw the time, 11:30. I hoped sincerely that whatever happened took less than half an hour.

* * *

There was a police van outside my house when we arrived. I could have cried. I dropped the cab driver my fare and walked up the steps to my front door with shaking hands, hearing my stepfather talking loudly inside.

"She's in college, for Christ's sake. She's got no interest in the wider world, no ambitions, so why the f would she go and do something like that?"

I walked into the lounge room to see Mitchell and two uniformed men. "Hi," I said weakly as all attention shifted to me. Mitchell was seething.

"Miss Templar?" one of the men said, advancing forward. I nodded, the breath trapped in my throat. "My name is Officer Walker, I'd like to ask you a few questions.Were you at the House of Records this afternoon, 5:45 to be exact?" I nodded again. "We have evidence to suggest that you have accessed restricted and confidential material, and not only that, have made replications of the information. Does this sound familiar to you?"

"I didn't know it was restricted," I lied, "I just came across it."

The officer looked at Mitchell, who begrudgingly left the room to give us privacy. "Improbable," he continued once my stepfather was gone. "Several codes were needed to access these sites, and even then they are impossible to find unless you have been shown how to," the man said, and I saw from his eyes that I had no escape. They knew it was me. "It is a concern to us that you knew these sites existed, and more so that you knew the pathways and codes in order to reach them. This is a serious offence, Miss Templar. Are the documents you printed with you at present?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I knew it was a stupid thing to say, but I had nothing else.

"Miss Templar, we have authorisation to search your bag, and to detain you if necess…" He didn't have time to finish the sentence, because I bolted.

* * *

I dashed out through the front door with my bag clutched under one arm. Adrenaline flooded my muscles and I ran faster than I had ever done. I was going to escape.

A great weight hit my back and I sprawled onto the ground. Hands grabbed at my arms as I thrashed about. I heard the sound of handcuffs. I went limp. I was being arrested. I had never done anything remotely illegal before, besides taking a candy snake from a self-serve candy bar when I was twelve, and now I had committed a federal offence.

I was hauled to my feet and pushed across the yard, my mind laughing when it registered Officer Walker reciting the "You have a right to remain silent" speech. No way. This couldn't be happening. I looked over my shoulder to see Mitchell silhouetted in the doorway. He said nothing as I ducked my head to get into the rear of the police van. A metal grate separated me from the two officers sitting in the front seats. "You're in a lot of trouble, Miss Templar," the second officer said as we drove off, with a hint of excitement in his voice. It was probably just a game to him. "Not often we get cases like this. What I wanna know is, how did you _know_ what to do? I mean, not even _we_ know how to get onto that kind of site. Who you workin' for, anyway, Osama? What's a nice girl like you doing…"

"Chris," Officer Walker warned sternly. The younger officer silenced himself. "She doesn't have to answer any of your questions, no matter how idiotic they are. Wait until we get to the station."

We had barely reached the intersection at the end of the street when the van slowed down. "What's this fool doing?" Officer Walker said, leaning out the window. A grey car was crawling across the intersection at walking pace with lights on full beam. Officer Walker blared the siren for a second, but the car kept crawling towards us.

"What on Earth?" Chris said, squinting into the headlights. "Steven, I don't think there's anyone driving that car!"

"You've gotta be kidding me," Walker replied as turned off the van. "We better go check this one out." He turned back to face me, "Don't think about doing anything funny, missy." Both officers had done little more than release their seatbelts before they stopped dead. The grey car had stopped a few feet from the van – and had begun to change. The headlights flipped down and the doors opened, twisting around as the car seemed to bend in two. It reared back on itself and the doors and hood slid down to form some sort of panel. I heard both of the men gasp. They each held one hand on their gun, but did not move. The shifting of metal produced a head, arms and legs, and soon a great humanoid figure stood before us.

"Swift," I whispered in relief, but shrieked along with the officers as he took two giant steps towards us and slammed his fist through the hood of the van. It crumpled like paper.

The officers were screaming as the windscreen shattered, covering their eyes and head just cursing and yelling for all they could. I heard Swift's footsteps as he rounded on the van. The rear doors bent and buckled before being completely ripped off. Swift's face came into view.

"Are you coming or not?" he asked me, his hand held out.


	5. Ignition

CHAPTER FIVE - IGNITION

"Does this work?"

I pressed the 'on' button for the radio as Swift, now in car form, sped down the freeway and away from town. The answer came through the bass-throbs booming out of the speakers and the yelling voice clutching to be heard among screaming guitars. I turned the dial quickly. Classical music.

I sighed and lent back in the seat, closing my eyes. Inside the car was deceptively quiet compared to the commotion Swift had caused just minutes ago. All I could hear was the air coming through the heating and a few dulcet notes of Bach. It calmed me down a little bit, but I kept glancing over my shoulder with the impression we were being followed – but not by the police.

I had no idea where we were going, but I trusted that wherever Swift was taking me, we would be safe. He turned off the freeway and down a country road, where sheep and cattle grazed lazily in the moonlight. There was a farmhouse not too far away, with a single square of light punctuating the darkness. Swift pulled over, opened the door and I climbed out. A second later he was back in his natural form.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" he asked immediately, his optics scanning my face and my slightly ripped clothing.

"Few cuts and bruises, but nothing more," I replied. "That was amazing back there. You saved me – again."

"But remember it was I who originally placed you in those situations," he said, sitting on the embankment so that he was almost at my eye level.

"That doesn't matter. It was my choice to be involved. But, how did you know what was happening? How did you realise I was in trouble?"

"Optimus tapped your phone," he said with a slight smile.

I raised my eyebrows. "He did what? How? When?"

"He knows what he's doing, Optimus. It would have taken him only a few seconds. He needn't have even touched it in order to put a tracer on your mobile phone. We received your stepfather's message and I offered to assist." He paused for a second, and he seemed to be breathing in sharply – if Autobots could even breathe at all. "Where have you been?" he asked suddenly.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can sense something on you, a scent. Not your own, but a man's. Smoke, nicotine and alcohol, as well."

I blushed violently. "Uh, I went out after work. With a friend. We had a few drinks, the bar was pretty smoky."  
"You went out with top secret government documents in your bag?"

I rubbed my brow. "I know! I know it was irresponsible, but I didn't really plan it."

"You should have come straight to the car yard once you had finished your duties," Swift said, looking concerned.

"It was different, you don't understand. It was a…an opportunity that I just couldn't miss. I'm sorry, though, okay? I got you your documents, so if I could just hand them over to Optimus, I'll get out of here…" And go where? Home? Where the cops were waiting for me and my stepfather was probably baying for my blood? Maybe a motel somewhere. But they would find me the moment I swiped my card to pay. Swift seemed to pick up on my thoughts.

"I'm not trying to anger you, Rose, or be an inconvenience for you. I'm trying to keep you safe. You will be wanted by the police now. They'll be looking for you everywhere. I'm going to make sure that they don't find you," he said comfortingly.

"You always sound so sure," I replied, wiping my damp eyes angrily with the curve of my wrist.

"It sounds a whole lot better than saying how I really feel," he said. I glanced at him, but his optics gleamed with a quick smile.

"You're a mysterious thing, Swift, you know that? I mean beside the fact that you're a talking robot – something that I'm still trying to come to terms with. You guys seem to have complex emotions, just like us."

He tilted his hand from side to side. "Sort of. Yes and no. It's complicated. The only think I _do _know is that right now we have to get you into hiding. It wouldn't do me badly to be out of site as well. Then I can contact Optimus, give him the documents and…well, figure out what we're going to do with you."

"Don't worry about me," I said, with a flippant wave. "I've seen Prison Break. I know how to stay on the run without getting caught." I smiled jokingly.

He looked at me blankly. "Prison Break?"

"A TV show. Sorry. Forget that you guys don't watch TV." Lights from down the road shone in my eyes suddenly, and Swift and I were caught in the headlights like two stunned rabbits. I froze, but Swift was changing quickly into the silver car. They would have seen him, surely. They were only a short distance down the road. Thinking as fast as I could, I opened the car door and pretended to be talking on my mobile phone. The car crept down the road slowly, dimming the headlights. The simple Astra looked familiar, one I had seen driving on the freeway before. It wasn't too often cars had the very same dull lime colour. It stopped and I held my breath. The driver's door opened and a silhouette appeared in front of the headlights.

"What was that?"

I nearly had a heart attack with the recognition of the voice. "David?"

"Rose…what…I saw something…" He was stammering, walking forward towards me, but looking well over my head.

"David, what are you doing here?" I said through gritted teeth.

He looked completely spaced out with confusion and fear, but managed to answer. "I found your ID cards on the floor of the pub. They must have fallen out of your purse when you were paying for your drinks. I went to give them back and saw the police van, and then…then there was…a _thing_. I called out to you, but you didn't hear me. I thought you were in danger, kidnapped by… So I followed you here."

I searched for an excuse. "David, how much have you had to drink? There was a police van, yes, but they, er, mistook me for my neighbour – you know, Karen Briggs. She has the same hair and all, and I've always thought there was something fishy going on at her place. So they let me go, I got in my car and drove here, for some fresh air. You must be seeing things." I hoped it sounded convincing, but he shook his head.

"There's something fishy going on _here_. With you. What are you doing? All these things can't be coincidental. Who are you helping? Is it the Russians? Japanese? I don't know who could have made that thing I saw. Where is it now?"

I held my hands up to silence him. "David, you don't know what you're talking about. I'm just the cleaning chick, remember? I mop floors, not deliver top secret information to, I dunno, aliens or something." I gave a weak smile that he seemed to consider for a moment, before his gaze turned towards the car. He frowned.

"That thing…did it…did it become your car? It kind of looks the same." He walked over to it, bending down to scrutinize a tiny symbol of an Autobot engraved into the door. Without warning the door opened by itself with such force that David reeled backwards, gave a feeble gasp and dropped to the road like a stone. I shrieked, dropping to my knees to help him, but he was out cold. Swift resumed his normal form.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing??" I cried, but a shadow had fallen in front of me as something lit up my back, something much larger than David's car. Swift was staring behind me, so I turned around.

Beyond the mount behind the farmhouse came what looked like an oversized firework, streaking bright orange into the night sky. But I knew it was no firework. I had seen too many Cold War movies and knew a nuclear weapon when I saw one.

"We may already be too late," Swift whispered.


	6. Race

CHAPTER SIX – RACE

I didn't think they still existed," Swift said to himself, his silver face illuminated by the streaking missile.

"A nuclear bomb? 'Fraid so. They're everywhere," I said, unable to tear my eyes away from the site. We were dead. No matter what we did or how far we could run. Yet, Swift was shaking his head.

"That's not a nuclear bomb. It's a K-486, a damn evil bomb nonetheless, but you're looking at a destruction zone of about ten miles in diameter. But what's it doing on Earth?"

"On Earth? You mean this is an alien weapon? But…what…"

"No time for questions," he interjected. "If you want answers, you need to be alive first to hear them. We need to move – now."

Swift changed back into the car and opened the back door. I heaved David in, which was difficult as he was no weedy lightweight. I clambered in the front as the radio switched on and swung through the channels until a voice said 'seatbelts'. Taking that as a command from Swift, I clicked the buckle in and was instantly glad I did so. Swift's back tires kicked up blue smoke as the tires spun against asphalt and we zoomed forward. The force pressed me back into the softness of the seat as we sped along faster than any racing car I had ever seen. I looked back at David, still out cold with a spidery bruise emerging on his forehead. He would have a mammoth headache when he came to...

If we survived.

I watched as the K-486 seemed to skim the highest reaches of the troposphere, turn in a sharp, graceful arc and plummet straight back to where it had been fired from – some secret location of my own hometown. Everything would be annihilated. My friends, their families, my grandparents…

I put my head in my hands, mouth hanging open in a stalemate of grief, shock and fear. If I hadn't have gone running that night, if I hadn't been looking out the window at the very moment that I had…I would have died tonight. It's the most indescribable feeling knowing how close you came to death. You never expect to feel guilt as one of your emotions.

"I shouldn't be alive," I whispered.

At that moment I felt something change in the air. My ears popped as the air around me seemed to compress and then expand. Swift's engine heaved and spluttered as everything around us suddenly shook with the noise of a thousand jet-engines. I screamed and covered my ears, my head spinning, glass smashing, lungs collapsing. The car was engulfed by the racing expanse of the K-486's impact blast, great plasmatic swirls of matter, air, atoms. Swift swerved violently, and as the world grew dim around me, the small part of my brain still conscious registered that we were airborne, spinning sideways through the air with the sky and Earth moving in a great blur. I knew I was dead, I heard the crunch as the roof hit the road, but then I knew no more.


	7. Decide

Hey all, thanks for persevering with this story, and especially thanks for the reviews - I love getting them! I just have to say that I'm writing this story for the love of writing and Transformers, nothing else. Pure and simple, and if you can take just a second of enjoyment out of it, then it was worth it! So, read on!

CHAPTER 7 - DECIDE

I was aware of noises around me, of voices I could recognise, but my own voice in the back on my head told me I was not ready to open my eyes. The deep-set exhaustion in my body gave me no argument to do otherwise. I drifted back into sleep, or at least what I figured to be sleep. What had just happened? Wasn't I just at home before, worrying about a burnt chicken in the oven? Thinking about work and how I could possibly ever strike up a conversation with David? I returned to the darkness.

I felt myself surfacing a while later to the sound of the same voices.

"She's waking up!" came one voice.

"Get the water, quick, behind you. She's dehydrated. Just a little bit of water, though." Another one said.

"Just…just pour it down her throat?" I felt cold water hit the back of my throat and dribble down my front. I spluttered, coughing as water splashed into my lungs. My eyes flew open as I struggled for breath.

"Don't drown her! I said just a drop!"

"I'm sorry, my hands are shaking!"

David? My eyes focussed on his blurred form. I blinked a few times.

"Can you hear me, Rose?" he asked.

"Yes," I said as everything came into clear focus. It was daylight. My surrounds were searingly bright and duochrome; the burnt orange of the earth against the intense blue sky. Where were we?

"Are you alright?" It was Swift who was talking now, his great figure coming into view. "Are you hurting anywhere? Do you need some more water? Can you see clearly?"

"Whoa, easy on the questions, big guy," David said with a laugh. His laughter made my brain tick, wheeling back to bring one overlooked fact into notice. David was standing next to Swift, who stood in natural form, yet seemed completely unperturbed that he was next to a towering Autobot. I looked back and forward from the two of them, a frown growing on my face.

"We've been introduced already," David said, giving a nod towards Swift. "Was a bit of a shock waking up with not only a ripper headache, but also seeing a giant robot walking around. I don't think he's trying to hurt us, though."

"That's what I've been telling you for the past hour," Swift said, "yet you're still watching me like I'm about to pull a gun on you."

"You do have guns built into your arms. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but not even the meanest gangster has that." David noted.

Swift ignored him, turning back to me. "So, you're alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, just a bit stiff and sore, but nothing else I don't think. But…but what happened there before? What's happened to our town?"

"Ah," Swift said, looking uncomfortable. "I'm afraid there is not much left." David's face dropped.

"What?"

"The bomb detonated successfully and has disintegrated the entirety of your town. There is nothing left." He said it straightforward and business-like. I supposed there was no other way of breaking news like that. David sat heavily on the ground, his face a maelstrom of confusion and despair.

"I thought I saw something," he began, "just before, well, before you knocked me out. A bomb, was it? Was it your type – the evil Autobots you were telling me about, who did this, Swift? Decepticons?"

"Not my kind at all," Swift replied savagely. "We have nothing to do with them, nothing at all. But, yes, I believe it was them."

"I don't understand it," I sighed, "why did they do such a thing?"

Swift began to pace, kicking up a small dust cloud. "My guess? They found something they wanted – and something they didn't want. The fact that those documents you retrieved showed that they'd been accessing military information definitely says that they were looking for something. I believe that whatever that was, they now have it, and have destroyed the evidence of ever being there."

"That's preposterous!" cried David. "They blew the bloody town to bits! Gee, no one will notice that, will they? No one will notice that a massive bomb has just killed thousands and thousands of people!"

"Calm down," Swift said, holding his palms out. "You didn't let me finish. Whatever they've started is definitely not over. They're hiding something else. This is probably the beginning of a string of similar events."

"What events?" David was on his feet now, staring with his chest pushed out towards Swift. He looked as though he wanted a fight. "What events, huh? What the hell is happening here? It's your people whether you like it or not, Tin Man. What's going to happen?"

"David," I said softly, "there's no need to yell. Just calm…"

"No, I will not calm down!" His face suddenly broke into utter anguish, his eyes brimming with angry tears. "My family was there, Rose! My parents, my brother, his family, my little sister, my dog – oh God, Lucky's dead!" He sank to his knees. "I have to go back. I have to find them…"

"There is still a significant amount of radiation in the area," Swift warned. "To go back would be to expose yourself to significant harm."

"What about you, Rose? Who was there?" David said with the air of trying to rally me to his idea.

"No one," I replied. "The rest of my relatives live in New York. There's Mitchell, but…there's nothing I could do for him. My friends only come back from college in the holidays. There's no one."

"There's us," Swift put in. "And we would do well to stick together. This is far greater than what you think, David and Rose. This could be happening in another town right now. We need to find Optimus Prime, share as much information as we can, and then try and stop these bastards." He looked deadly serious, angry even. His fists clenched threateningly at this sides.

David looked up at him. "What if we don't want to go? What if we choose to stay here?"

"Then you are letting the murderers of your family walk free," I said. "It's your choice."

"You are with me, then, Rose? You will continue to fight the Decepticons?"

"Of course," I said instantly. Swift turned to David.

"And you? Are you going to stay here?"

Scrubbing away a rogue tear that had fallen, he gave a weak, yet enpassioned smile. "With my family dead? Wouldn't dream of it. Let's go."


End file.
